


Abracadbra

by savingpoppunk



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Bottom Dean Winchester, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Witch Castiel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:54:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28214301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savingpoppunk/pseuds/savingpoppunk
Summary: The first thing Dean notices about Castiel is not his piercing blue eyes or sexy bedhead but the fact that he is actively glaring at Dean like he fucking hates him. Dean, ever confused, moves towards the back of the room and takes his seat. Castiel scoots his chair as far away from Dean as possible without raising suspicion from their other classmates. Seriously? Dean thinks. Do I smell or something? He takes a whiff of his jacket just in case. Castiel doesn’t look at him for the rest of the class period and practically runs out of the classroom when the bell rings.The first thing Castiel notices about Dean Winchester is not his sharp jawline or emerald green eyes, it’s the pendant hanging from his neck. It’s an anti-possession symbol: a devil's trap with a ring of flames around it. Most people Dean comes into contact with probably writes it off as edgy jewelry, but Castiel knows the difference. It has ‘hunter’ written all over it.Witch!Cas and Hunter!Dean meet in high school. Love ensues.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 34





	Abracadbra

Dean sighs as the low rumble of the impala slows into silence. John shifts into park and baby lurches. “Well, this is it boys,” John announces. The building in front of Dean is not unfamiliar. Singer’s Salvage and Auto is probably the closest thing Dean has to a home, but that doesn’t mean he’s excited to be here. I should be on the road with dad, he thinks. But John insists that he needs to do this particular hunt alone. 

The Winchesters used to be frequent fliers at Bobby’s house. John would dump him and Sam there anywhere from three days to three weeks when he decided to go off on a bender, or a hunt he couldn’t bring the boys on. Dean assumes that eventually Bobby got sick of John’s shit, because they haven’t visited since Dean was fourteen. 

Now at seventeen, Dean is used to being dragged around the country and thrown about, like the rest of John’s belongings. Dean may as well be one of the duffle bags that are packed away in the trunk. 

Dean unbuckles his seat belt, gives the dash a loving tap, and turns to look at Sam. He looks about as excited to be here as Dean feels. “C’mon Sammy,” Dean smiles, “maybe Bobby still has that tire swing out back.” Sam glares at him and complains, “Its Sam.” Dean smirks. “Sure it is, bitch.” He moves to ruffle Sam’s shaggy hair but Sam ducks out of the car before Dean gets the chance. 

They walk up the rough gravel driveway, a few paces behind John. John moves to knock on the door, but it swings open before he can. Bobby stands there, looking the exact same as the last time Dean saw him. Same tattered blue baseball cap and flannel layered over a grease-stained shirt. 

“John,” Bobby acknowledges curtly, and extends his hand. Dean watches as the as the two men shake hands. The tension is still thick between them, Dean assumes its due to whatever falling out happened that’s stopped them from visiting the past three years. 

“Well, get in here you idjit, let me see those boys of yours!” 

“Heya, Bobby,” Dean says as he crosses the threshold into the house, Sam following after him. 

“Would you look at you boys,” Bobby laughs, “you're almost men! Why don’t you two go get settled upstairs.” 

*** 

Bobby’s guest room consists of two twin sized beds draped in old quilts, corresponding nightstands, and a dresser covered in chipped paint and a layer of dust. Throughout the years It’s always been the nicest place they’ve ever stayed. 

Dean watches as Sam takes his clothes out of his duffle and lay them neatly into the top drawer of the dresser and stack his Harry Potter collection on the nightstand. He does this no matter where they’re staying. Dean thinks it must bring Sammy some sense of comfort. Dean stopped unpacking his bag years ago. 

When Sam is done organizing his things, they walk back down the stairs just in time to hear the front door slam shut. Bobby stands in the foyer, arms crossed over his chest. He glances over at them, a frown etched into his face. 

Dean shakes his head. Beside him, Sam rolls his eyes. Typical of John to dump them and leave without saying goodbye. “He say how long?” Dean asks. 

Bobby just shakes his head. "You idjits hungry?” 

*** 

Their first day of school in Sioux Falls is a week later. Bobby gives Dean keys to one of the beaters outside, a 98’ mercury grand marquis. It's no Baby, but it gets the job done. Sam affectionately names it “the boat” because its fucking huge and Dean may as well be driving a boat. 

Dean drops Sam off at the middle school before driving across the street to the high school. Dean doesn’t really see much point in going to school, but Bobby insisted. Dean knows his place, and it's not in the classroom. It's between two white highway lines, sitting shotgun next to his father. Nevertheless, Dean parks the boat in front of Sioux Falls High and makes his way to the front office. 

A receptionist in the front office hands Dean his schedule and throws him to the wolves. Its mid-September now and school has been in session for at least a month. Dean sighs, it's just another ‘perk’ of being one of John’s belongings: he’s always the new kid. 

The first half of the day goes as expected. Dean struggles to find a seat that isn't taken in his classes. All of his peers have claimed their seats for the semester and formed their cliques already. Dean is, once again, the odd man out. Teachers pull him aside during class to lecture him about the importance of catching up because he’s already missed a third of the semester. He nods his head and makes promises he can't keep about working hard and catching up quickly. Dean can't count the amount of first days he’s had exactly like this one. 

At lunch, Dean contemplates using the money Bobby gave him to buy something, but he feels guilty. Bobby has already given him so much. It doesn’t feel right to take his money too. Dean is staring longingly at the lunch line when he feels a hand grab his bicep. It takes everything in him to fight his instinct to deck whoever is grabbing him, but when he turns around it's just a pretty blonde girl. A smirk seals its way across his lips. 

“Hey there sweetheart,” he quips. 

She punches him in the shoulder, “don’t start with me Winchester.” 

Dean clutches his shoulder because ouch, she punches hard. “Do I even know you?!” He exclaims. This chick is crazy. Who just goes around punching people? 

Now it’s a smirk that graces crazy blonde chick’s lips, “You don’t remember me? I'm Jo, Ellens daughter.” 

Realization dawns across Dean’s face. Ellen is a part of Bobby’s hunting network. He met Ellen and Jo the last time he and Sam stayed with Bobby. Ellen had come over to check in with Bobby about some lore, “Well nice to see you again Joanna Beth. You do know punching people is rude right?” 

Jo scrunches her nose in reaction to her full name, “don’t be a dick. C’mon now you can sit with me. I’ll save you from having to play into the whole loner vibe you have going on.” 

Dean scoffs and grumbles, but follows jo to her table nonetheless. 

Sitting at Jo’s table is a red-haired girl in a Star Wars shirt and a boy with a nose ring and a mullet who looks straight out of the 80’s. Jo introduces them as Charlie and Ash. Dean smiles at them. “I like your shirt,” he says to Charlie. That sends them into a lively debate about the prequels. Maybe Dean isn’t having the worst day ever. 

*** 

English is Dean’s last class of the day. It’s also the only class of the day that Dean pays an ounce of attention to. Mr. Crowley has a British accent which is interesting, considering they're in South Dakota. That’s not what really piques Deans interest though. Mr. Crowley tells Dean to take a seat next to “Castiel” and points at a dark-haired boy in the back of the room. 

The first thing Dean notices about Castiel is not his piercing blue eyes or sexy bedhead but the fact that he is actively glaring at Dean like he fucking hates him. Dean, ever confused, moves towards the back of the room and takes his seat. Castiel scoots his chair as far away from Dean as possible without raising suspicion from their other classmates. Seriously? Dean thinks. Do I smell or something? He takes a whiff of his jacket just in case. Castiel doesn’t look at him for the rest of the class period and practically runs out of the classroom when the bell rings. 

What the fuck? 

*** 

The first thing Castiel notices about Dean Winchester is not his sharp jawline or emerald green eyes, it’s the pendant hanging from his neck. It’s an anti-possession symbol: a devil's trap with a ring of flames around it. Most people Dean comes into contact with probably writes it off as edgy jewelry, but Castiel knows the difference. It has ‘hunter’ written all over it. 

Castiel’s mother has drilled into him since birth the importance of staying away from hunters. While it's not unheard of for Hunters and Witches to coexist peacefully and even work together on occasion, Castiel’s coven is particularly strict. They ban any and all interactions with hunters. Castiel’s mother always reminds him of the atrocity's hunters have committed against their kind. Castiel knows more about the Salem Witch Trials than they teach in public school. 

Castiel knows that he must be cautious around Dean. He has no doubt that if Dean finds out about his powers, he could be in real danger. 

*** 

Dean asks about Castiel the next day at lunch. He points to the table where the boy is sitting alone and asks Charlie, “What's up with that kid?” 

“Who? Castiel?” She stares at him curiously. 

“I sit next to him in English. I think he hates me for some reason.” 

Charlie raises her eyebrows, “To be honest I don’t know that much about him. He keeps to himself mostly. He had some older brothers who used to go here but they graduated a couple years ago. He doesn’t seem to talk anyone really. Why Do you think he hates you?” 

Dean recounts their interaction from yesterday and all Charlie says is, “Huh. Strange,” and shrugs her shoulders.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're seeing this, thanks for reading! This is my first attempt at a multi-chaptered fic so bare with me. Any comments are welcome and appreciated!


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